Tag Archives: Writing

Rejection – but different?

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I end up here a lot.

I had the opportunity to submit a story that I had published previously. There was going to be a reprint anthology and I had a story that just fit right in. I was pleased with this idea ~ I had already made the money from the first sale (almost enough to buy lunch!) and this was a chance to get another lunch!

I sent it in and I waited. I suppose the wait time wasn’t terrible compared to some things, but it seemed like a long time. Maybe I was just impatient? Perhaps I am used to my rejections arriving faster than that. I waited some more. Then I got this:

Regretfully … We will not be moving forward with publication.

While we have received some great submissions for this collection, we feel that we haven’t received enough to proceed. We prefer to publish a good anthology, rather than a mediocre one, and we hope that you’d rather be published in a good anthology (rather than a mediocre one), as well.

In the past, our re-print anthos have filled very early in the submission process. We can only conclude that our timing must be up for this subject. We’ll revisit dark military science fiction in the future, when there may be more reprints to choose from.

This rejection is not a reflection on the merit of your story. Though, if your story has been held for a long time, it would have likely been selected.

I guess it’s a nicer rejection than normal? It seemed like they held my work for long enough that I should think it would be considered? I’m honestly confused by this one as I haven’t had anything like this before. So, rejection, but different.

Then I thought I should probably look at some of the other things I’ve got hanging around out there. Turns out the other things I’d sent out had been rejected and I’d simply never actually been notified. The contest and the other works were published and I was not part of them. It certainly makes a canceled project sound a lot better.

Then I got an update on a work of mine that was actually accepted for publication. The publication has been delayed and no firm date can be given at this time for when it will actually come out.

What does all this mean? Back to the keys. Keep writing, keep creating stories and keep trying to find the right place that’s looking for my kind of story. I’d say fingers crossed, but it’s really had to type that way…

Flash Prompt – Unstoppable

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Transfiguration (2020) from Universal Everything on Vimeo.

He would not stop.

Most thought it was rage. Some thought it was pure spite and malice.

He was coming. He would not stop.

They tried the physical to no avail. They called in all the wizards they could find. They cast, the chanted, they threw magic. There was fire. There was acid, there was stone. There was anything and everything until pure chaos was the result.

He would not stop.

They cajoled, they pleaded. They wailed and moaned.

He would not stop. He could not stop. It was not rage or spite or malice at all. It was love and it drove him onward.

Flash Prompts

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Sometimes I need a little push to get going. Writing is not an easy, flowing thing all the time. A friend of mine has a secret group on Failbook called “Flash Prompt”.

One picture, each day with no discussion – just writing. Hit the “like” button all you want, but don’t comment on other people’s work. It’s meant to get writing stuff moving for people – give some little bit of inspiration. It’s meant to be “flash sized” so short and to the point.

I’ve done a couple of things on there and I thought I might share some with you. I don’t do every one. Some of the pictures don’t inspire me, sometimes I miss a day or twelve and the mood doesn’t move me. It’s hard to tell. The curator is super good about providing a link to the artist who created the picture – and I will try to do the same. Artists need to get paid.

This is the first one I participated in.

Rocky Coast

On sunny days it was great fun to climb on the rocks near my aunt’s house exploring tide pools and finding shells. She loved it there. I loved it there. The breeze off the water, the sound of the surf.

When the storms came the could be endured. The rage was part of the beauty. The danger part of the allure.

When the storm sent sea water down the chimney she decided that endurance had limits and even the best relationships can turn sour. She moved far enough inland that the sea could not reach her.

I miss the rocky coast.